


Bliss

by ArtanisNaanie



Series: Muse [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Betaed, Blow Jobs, Boys in kilt, Casual Sex, Exhibitionism, Hookups, I wanted to write just porn but then Jaskier happened, Jaskier has a kilt kink and so do I, Light Dom/sub, M/M, No beta - thanks Melitele for Grammarly, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtanisNaanie/pseuds/ArtanisNaanie
Summary: Jaskier has no illusion about what that is. It might be a public place, a wine bar, but it's very much a hookup and surely not a date. He's known Geralt for years, even if the guy doesn't remember it for the most part, and he has listened to enough of his friends about how the Wolf doesn't really do romance of any kind, to lead himself in something that it's not. So, he doesn't. Flings and hookups are more his style too, anyway. Maybe.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Muse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752481
Comments: 21
Kudos: 197
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development, The Modern Witcher AU Collection





	Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of "Undisclosed desires". 
> 
> Thanks to all of those who requested it! I wanted to write plain porn but Jaskier is a little shit and kept bringing his feelings with him, so I used a bit of those.
> 
> I have other ideas for next installments of the series, and even a bit of plot, who knew!
> 
> Thanks for your kind comments, kudos, and bookmarks, they make me very very happy.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Updated 01/10/2021: Thank so much to Rita for proofreading and making this series a lot better!! Check her work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967), she writes amazing fics!!

They meet at a wine bar, next, per Geralt's request. The request came in the form of a very, very dry text, not that Jaskier was expecting a call but, after three weeks, maybe a hello would have been nice. 

Jaskier has no illusion about what _that_ is. It might be a public place, a wine bar, but it's very much a hookup and surely not a date. He's known Geralt for years, even if the guy doesn't remember it for the most part, and he has listened to enough of his friends about how the Wolf doesn't really do romance of any kind, to lead himself in something that it's not. So, he doesn't. Flings and hookups are more his style too, anyway. Maybe.

When he reaches the bar, fashionably late by about five minutes, he finds Geralt easily, even if the white-haired man is hidden in a dark corner of the dimly-lit room with a narrow ceiling. He sits at a table, so Jaskier is only graced with the sight of his amazingly handsome face, his trimmed beard - yes, Geralt, one can see it's well cared for and not as lazy as you would like it to look - his man-bun that shouldn't be attractive at all - and yet - and broad shoulders and chest clad in a too-tight black shirt. He himself decided to forgo the skinny jeans, even if they make his ass look very nice, because he already knows he will have a boner for a huge part of the night and cock cages, in whatever form, are really not his thing. So he wears a slightly larger pair of yellow pants, a blue shirt, and a hat, because hats are cool and those who don't agree can go fuck themselves.

He slides behind the table, next to Geralt, unsure as to how to greet him. Not a kiss, of course, it isn't like that, even if Jaskier would like to. Not a handshake, because that would be weird. The little hand wave he settles on is awkward as fuck, but it's also the safest option.

"Hey Geralt, fancy meeting you here!" he smirks, because why the fuck not, and Geralt just grunts, which Jaskier is starting to understand is his first language. "So, what are we drinking tonight? I made you more of an ale guy than wine, you know? Your choice of setting was surprising. Have you eaten? I have but I could go with something to go with the wine, cheese maybe?"

He babbles. He does that quite often, really, Yennefer always says he talks too much to say nothing, but she's a bitch on the best of days and while he loves her very much he tries not to listen to her, but he does it especially when he's nervous. And he is. He doesn't know why, because this is easy and straightforward and he's here because he wants to suck Geralt's dick and Geralt said he would do it under the table and he agreed and maybe it was a rash and stupid decision but he's not going to walk away from it. But he's nervous because he's sober and Geralt is handsome and broody and silent and he's... Jaskier. So, he babbles, until Geralt lifts a hand and he shuts up, and then Geralt orders them a bottle of Italian wine he never heard before, something like Amarone, with a cheese plate, and minutes later he's still amazingly silent when the food and drink arrives. Geralt's lips are almost turned upside down, in a not-exactly-there smile, and Jaskier doesn't know what to do with it.

They drink, then. The wine is surprisingly good, smooth and thick and incredibly strong for wine - the bottle announces 14% and Jaskier has never had wine that strong - and after the second glass even Geralt's tongue seems to free itself. He talks. He answers. Jaskier discovers that Geralt really likes wine, a lot more than beer. He doesn't define himself as a connoisseur, but he certainly knows more about wine than Jaskier does, which is actually not a feat at all, but still impresses the younger man. He works in construction and has his own business with the friends from the other night. They even find some shared interests when they talk hobbies, both fans of a long-running TV show about brothers and angels and monsters, even if they argue about their favorite characters, because Jaskier is very much a Castiel guy while Geralt is absolutely convinced Dean is the only one that counts. They change the subject before it turns into an ugly argument.

They're well into their bottle, now, and Jaskier's mind is a bit fuzzy and he doesn't quite remember what he's here to do. It's nice, though, to talk to Geralt once he quits the grunts and switches to words, so he takes the last piece of cheese - he ate all the others too - and then pops it into his mouth and then realizes that Geralt is watching his slightly parted lips. Really watching, like, with intent. Right. That had been the plan. Jaskier plays it out, then, and licks the point of his fingers as they leave his mouth, and the weirdly yellowish eyes staring at him darken, the black pupil widening further with something that has nothing to do with the fact that the bar is so dark you basically can't see the people in the booth next to yours. 

Jaskier washes the cheese with a sip of wine, still watching Geralt. Silent, now, the both of them, a silence like a bubble in the middle of the noises of a crowded bar on a weekend night. Anticipation curls its warm claws at the bottom of Jaskier's belly, but he waits. For what he doesn't know, until Geralt leans, just a bit, just enough to be close enough that his voice will only resound between them.

"You have a very pretty mouth, birdie."

Jaskier still has absolutely no idea where the nickname comes from, but it's not bad, so he decides to not question it. "Hmm. I've been told." He hasn't. It doesn't matter.

"I think it would look even better around my cock." Geralt's voice is deep at all times, but it reaches a new low right now. Its timber does things to Jaskier, things that manifest in his pants.

"I think we should see if we can prove that." Jaskier flirts back. 

Geralt smirks, just a little tilt of those fucking lips and an eye crinkle."Get under the table, birdie."

 _Your wish is my command,_ is what Jaskier doesn't say because he's not going to say _that_ , but the sentiment is there anyway, so he checks vaguely to see if anybody's watching him - nobody is, as far as he can tell - puts his hat on his seat and glides along the bench and on the floor. 

So, here's one thing: sometimes you should really think about how you dress in a practical way instead of a fashionable way. Jaskier's never been good with that concept, and now, kneeling on a bar's floor with his yellow pants, he sees the error of his ways. It's too late to put a napkin under his knees anyway, so he shrugs and accepts his - and his trousers' - fate. 

Geralt opens his legs and slides a bit towards Jaskier with his ass, and Jaskier can finally see what there is under the table. A kilt, again. A leather kilt, for fucks sake. Jaskier didn't know he had a strong thing for guys in skirts, but here he is, straining against his fly while his hands slowly drift up big, muscular thighs covered in soft hair that Jaskier wants to nuzzle at. So he does, uncovering more of those legs like they are a gift on Christmas morning.

The thing they don't tell you about under the table blowjobs is that tables are fucking low, especially when you're, for all intents and purposes, a tall man trying to suck off an equivalently tall man with legs so big they are basically touching the table. The sweet mercy in this predicament is that the beast hiding under that kilt is long and big and almost slapping Jaskier in the face and he doesn't have to butt his head against the table to put his tongue on it. Sure, if he wanted to take it all he would end up with a bump under his hair, but he has no intention of doing that, because he's not a fool and also he has no idea how all that would fit in his mouth. 

So at first, he licks. He shuffles closer, trying not to think about his pants, and closes a hand around that girth to guide it towards his mouth. He's vaguely aware of the fact that he's in a very public place, but once he starts to go at it, once the smell - clean skin, a little bit of sweat, the unmistakable scent of _cock_ \- and the taste start to register, he doesn't really care where he is. Jaskier would love to say he's an accomplished cocksucker, but he's not - yet. Accomplishment comes from lots of practice, and, for now, Jaskier mainly has passion. Lots of it, though. He loves the stretch of his lips and the weight on his tongue. He could probably enjoy himself just staying there, keeping it warm without moving, but that's not happening right now, so he keeps going up and down the length, eyes closed because there isn't much to see besides the rumpled leather in front of him. 

He hears the table moving a bit, but it doesn't register until a big, massive hand descends onto his head. Not to pet, no, but to demand. He's pushed a bit too much on that impressive cock and he really tries not to gag, so he lifts his eyes and scowls, meeting eyes that are almost golden and not at all apologetic and a smirk that is entirely too smug for someone who's having his dick sucked. The hand doesn't push again, though, so probably his message passed; it just rests on his head, sometimes grasping his hair, a tell that Jaskier needs as he is going at it mostly blind. He licks and sucks and pumps the half that will never fit with his fist, he plays with the heavy sack that, honestly, shouldn't be half as appealing as it is, rolling the balls with his fingers and tugging on it, looking for the things that make that thighs twitch, that cock pulse, those fingers grasp. 

At one point the hand on his head disappears to set the kilt on his head, covering him as much as possible, and he hears the waitress ask Geralt if he wants something else. Geralt replies with an even voice and orders two desserts and two scotch. Really, the guy’s breath doesn't even hitch, and Jaskier's pride is wounded for all of a second, but then the kilt lifts and he can feel those eyes on him. 

"You have no idea how hard it is to keep a straight face right now, Jask." The voice is low, just for him, and Jaskier redoubles his efforts just as he feels his face flush. "Touch my balls, birdie, I'm so close, I'm going to fill that pretty mouth and you're going to drink it all." Jaskier does as he's told, he rolls and tugs and squeeze a bit and that's what does it, and it's truly impressive that Geralt manages to not thrust up while coming, and it's even more impressive that Jaskier thinks he managed to not moan for all of it, even if when that salty, bitter taste floods his mouth it's a really, really close call. 

He's hard in his pants. He didn't even put a hand on himself. Weirdly he doesn't even want to. He finishes to lick Geralt's cock clean while it softens and can attest that that thing is as impressive soft as it is hard, then swiftly - not swiftly at all, of course, who the fuck can swiftly climb from under a table with a hard-on on top of it - reappears at Geralt’s side. The man isn’t even flushed and if it wasn’t for the taste of come in his mouth and the fact that the irises of Geralt’s eyes are almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils, Jaskier would think he just had a very, very vivid daydream. But he sees Geralt adjust his kilt under the table, and he washes the taste with the last of his wine, and then the waitress is there with their order. She eyes him a little weird because he can feel he is flushed, and his lips are probably redder than before, and his hair is not as good as when he came in. He knows, and he flashes her a winning smile and a thank you. The only way in life is forward, after all.

As soon as she leaves, Geralt slides closer, his mouth next to, very next to, his ear. Jaskier feels a hand on his knee, too, and leans into it unconsciously.

“I was right, you know?” the low, fucking sexy voice says in his ear, and Jaskier bites his bottom lip to silence himself. “Your mouth was even prettier on my cock.” And really, Geralt shouldn’t say things like that while his hand is trailing along his thigh, because Jaskier is totally going to come in his pants and the yellow pants are ruined enough, thank you very much. But then the hand is on his bulge, and Jaskier gasps.

“Ah ah, birdie, you must be silent now, very quiet, and still. I think the waitress is onto us.”

“The waitress _knows_ , Geralt,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“She suspects, more like, but...” capable fingers unbutton his pants and slowly, so slowly, lower his fly, “she will _know_ if you start moaning, so you need to be quiet. Can you do that?”

Jaskier, if he’s honest with himself, doesn’t think he can. Nobody said a thing about being honest with Geralt, though, so he nods because if that big hand doesn’t grasp his dick right now Jaskier is going to faint from the amount of blood missing from his brain to fill his cock. Luckily Geralt seems to want him alive, at least at the moment, so he plunges his hand into his boxers and starts to wank him. It’s not a tease. It’s not tender, or subtle, or even careful. It’s tight and quick and almost too much and Jaskier can feel his face make a pained expression at the impossibility of making a sound and burrows his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, hoping to hide his ragged breaths there. 

“Mmm, I think the guys on the table at the right are watching, too. Maybe they’re hard in their pants just watching us.” A whine, just a little one, because Jaskier has talked to the guy maybe five times in his life and it’s totally unfair that Geralt already knows how to make him lose composure. “And the waitress... she’s pondering if she needs to come and make us stop, or just watch from afar. Maybe she’s wetting her panties, too. I mean, have you seen yourself, birdie, when you came up from under the table? The things I want to do to you...” and then Jaskier comes, because how can he not, it’s a miracle he even had his dick out of his boxers for that. “That’s it, mmm, Jaskier, next time it’s me who’s going to suck you off.” And yes, Jaskier would like that very much, and he even permits himself to bask in the promise of next time because he’s still coming down, and promises himself to squash that particular hope tomorrow. 

Geralt cleans his hand on a napkin while Jaskier tugs himself, and Geralt still wears that smug little smirk, and Jaskier busies himself with the drink and the chocolate cake when it arrives. It’s always a bit awkward, that moment after a hookup, where the sex part is over and the protagonists don’t exactly know what to do with themselves. Jaskier thinks it is, anyway. Geralt, apparently not. He sips at his drink and nibbles at his dessert and catches the same train of conversation they were having before they changed course. So Jaskier forgets the awkwardness and talks some more, about his music and his friends and his flat he rents with two friends - he doesn't tell who those friends are, he doesn't want to talk about Triss or Yennefer right now, because they both know Geralt and Geralt knows them and they're beautiful and scary and will probably cut his cock off if he tells them about this little arrangement - and Geralt responds with still more than grunts. 

When the scotch is gone and the chocolate cake is finished, they rise up together. Geralt wants to meet his friends, Jaskier is going to find a clean pair of trousers and do that too. They split the bill and walk outside. The farewell is, for Jaskier, a moment almost as awkward as the greeting, but Geralt doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. He comes close and kisses him, a light press of lips, nothing more, but it makes Jaskier’s little, stupid heart skip a beat. Not for fear of being caught - can’t give a shit about that one - but because his fucking crush of the better part of a decade is kissing him after a night at a bar and he really, really needs to rein in the hope. In Jaskier’s life, great hopes lean to great disappointment and he doesn't want to deal with all of that now. Or never. So he smiles brightly as he steps away, waves slightly.

“See ya, yeah?”

“Hm, yeah.”

And Jaskier turns away and starts his way home at a brisk pace. Just a hookup. Just a hookup. He thinks he feels Geralt’s gaze on him until he turns the corner. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my other Witcher fics:
> 
> \- [A piper at the gates of dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411083/chapters/56107210); canon universe, ep 6 fix-it, rated E, <9k. Geralt finds Jaskier one year and a half after the mountain.  
> \- the [Muse 'verse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752481): Modern setting, from hook-up to lovers, rated E, Geralt wears kilts, angst with a happy ending. <20k  
> \- [Calligraphy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25365418): 5k ficwip challenge, College/University, rated E, inspired by art, fluff, 5k  
> \- [In the kitchen of a keep in the mountains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910944/chapters/62970847): canon universe, found family, food as a love language, internal monologues, character study, rated T, 12k  
> \- [ There was only one bed and it was uncomfortable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283094): 5+1 Crack, rated E, 4k  
> \- [Wish you were here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579083); canon universe, porn without plot, rated E, 5k. Geralt walks in on Jaskier.. again.  
> \- [Of food, friendship and apologies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27954674); canon universe, ep 6 fix-it, rated G, 2k, not or pre slash. Food is a love language.  
> \- [As we lie here in our bed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28527864): canon universe, porn without plot, somnophilia prompt for the Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo, rated E, 1k  
> \- [Black in front of my eyes, bark against my back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616832): canon universe, porn without plot, outdoor, clothed sex, rated E, <1k  
> \- [Things that bump in the night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617060): pre canon universe, porn without plot, Eskel/Geralt, Kaer Morhen, rated E, <1k  
> \- [I quite like seeing you all tied up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617300): canon universe, porn without plot, Geraskier, soft bondage, rated E, <1k  
>   
> And you can come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ArtanisNaanie) too!


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